smoke rings in the dark
by liviafan1
Summary: "The clock on the wall ticks loudly, mocking him as he stares out the window, his sweaty palms tight against the thighs of his jeans. He's been silent for too long now, feels it in her stare, in the absent scribbling of pen against paper. His breaths echo in his ears, slow and ragged, everything left unsaid, words that don't spill easily from his lips." Canon until Post-Knockout.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks to AllyInDC for the idea and the wonderful cover art!**

* * *

_You've tried to find a spark _

_ of the flame that burned_

_ and somehow turned_

_ to smoke rings in the dark._

* * *

The clock on the wall ticks loudly, mocking him as he stares out the window, his sweaty palms tight against the thighs of his jeans. He's been silent for too long now, feels it in her stare, in the absent scribbling of pen against paper. His breaths echo in his ears, slow and ragged, everything left unsaid, words that don't spill easily from his lips.

"Mr. Castle - "

His eyes slam shut.

"I don't know how to answer your question," he sighs out, scraping a hand through his hair.

God, what the fuck is he doing here, anyway? He should be at the precinct with the boys, trying to track down Kate's sniper instead of sitting in this damn room like a fucking basket case.

"Okay. Fair enough."

His eyes snap to hers. "It is?"

She smiles. "I'm sure if it were a simple answer, you wouldn't be here."

He scoffs. "It wasn't my idea."

She doesn't look surprised. "Oh? Whose idea was it?"

He softens, hesitating. "My daughter's."

She looks up at that, her pen falling from her fingers. "She's worried about you."

Understatement of the year. "Yes."

"Why don't you tell me about her?"

"My daughter?"

"She obviously means a great deal to you, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Tell me about your relationship with her."

He relaxes a little, unclenches his fists. This part he can do.

"My little girl, Alexis, she - " he lets out a breath, shaking out his thoughts, "she's something else. Smart. Brave. Practically fearless." He laughs hollowly. "She's not afraid to stand up to me."

"And how old is she?"

"She'll be 18 soon." The words are heavy on his tongue, sinking into his heart.

"So you were relatively young when she was born."

"Yeah. Just out of college."

She nods. "And where is her mother?"

"She lives in LA. Alexis doesn't see her much." He sighs. "It's mostly just been the two of us."

"Stands to reason then that she'd be particularly protective of you."

He shrugs. "I guess."

She stares at him for a moment and he shifts uncomfortably under her steady gaze. "I'm gonna have a cup of coffee."

Um. What?

She tosses her pad onto her desk, shoving the sleeves of her light sweater up to her elbows. She's pretty, he thinks absentmindedly. She's not tall, at least a solid eight inches shorter than he is. Her wavy, dark blonde hair travels down her back, sweeps across her forehead, just above her blue eyes.

Mid-30s if he had to guess, around Kate's age.

And comes highly recommended, oddly enough. He's not sure what he was expecting, but she's definitely not it.

"Would you like some?" she asks with a friendly smile, gesturing to the coffee pot in the corner. "If I don't get in a few sips, my mid-afternoon slump kind of runs me over, you know?"

He smiles a little. "Half a cup would be great."

She busies herself, flicks a couple of packs of sweetener before stirring it into her cup. She hands him a black mug, small and unassuming. He doesn't drink black coffee often, but he's so exhausted, tired of fighting, of everything catching up to him. He takes a long gulp, relishing the bitter slide of it down his throat.

After settling into her chair, she inches over her knees, elbows to her thighs, cradling the steaming mug in her hands. "How have the two of you been getting along lately?"

"Kate - " he stammers out reflexively. His face goes hot, so damn used to arguing about _her_. He exhales slowly, shoving the mug between his legs as he gets ahold of his bearings. "You meant me and Alexis," he says quietly.

She looks thoughtful. "Mr. Castle -"

"Call me Rick."

_Mr. Castle_. He can't even hear the words anymore without thinking about the disdain that pours out of Iron Gates' mouth.

_Go home, Mr. Castle. The 12th precinct has no room for a hotshot mystery writer looking to play cop._

He's pretty sure he hates her a little bit.

"Rick, I'm trying to do the best I can not to force your hand here. The only reason I ask about Alexis is because she seems to be a comfortable topic for you. But if you'd rather discuss - _Kate_, you said? - then, please - "

He shakes his head firmly. "No. I don't wanna talk about her." He sighs. "Not yet, anyway."

Every time he talks about her - thinks about her - the fist in his chest gets larger, squeezes his heart more forcefully.

It's been six weeks. Six weeks since he walked out of her hospital room, the promise of her call the only thing keeping his disappointment at bay.

The call that still hasn't come.

He'll be damned if he picks up the phone first. Not this time.

"And I won't push you to talk about her," she pauses. "Not yet, anyway."

His eyes snap to hers - to this woman who somehow manages to keep him on his toes after only minimal time in his company. Jesus. No wonder everyone raves about her.

He swallows. Time for a change of subject. "It's Alexis' last year in high school and I think - I know - she's got it in her head that I won't be able to take care of myself after she goes away to college." He hesitates. "That I'll be reckless."

She frowns. "Reckless, how?"

He waves his hand. "Emotionally."

She lifts her eyebrows. "And have you been?"

Uh. "No?"

Well, he doesn't think so, but Alexis has other opinions.

Of course.

She sets her coffee cup down, crossing her legs. "You sound unsure."

"I wasn't prepared for the question," he says defensively.

"Okay," she hums. "So you and Alexis haven't been getting along well."

He frowns. "I didn't say that."

"But you did, Rick. You told me that Alexis is worried you'll be reckless when she's gone, which implies that she feels you're acting that way now." She pauses. "But you just said you weren't."

Jesus Christ. He really wasn't prepared for this today.

"I promise I'm not attacking you." She smiles kindly. "And I just have one more question for you today, if you'll humor me."

He eyes her skeptically. "Okay."

"This woman that you're so hesitant to talk about - Kate. Is she at the root of all this?"

He clenches his jaw. "Yes," he says roughly.

"Okay."

_Okay?_ "That's it?"

"I don't usually ask my clients to stay for a full session their first go 'round. There tends to be a lot of anxiety, which I'm sure you can imagine is relatively counterproductive." She looks amused. "Unless you'd rather stay."

"No, no," he says quickly. He scrambles out of his chair and replaces his coffee cup, wiping the nervous sweat from his brow. When he reaches the door, she stops him.

"I know today wasn't easy for you, Rick. But I'm hoping eventually you'll trust me enough to realize that I'm only here to help you."

He lets out a shaky breath, his head falling to rest against the door briefly. "Me too."

* * *

**This starts off in canon, but as this progresses, it'll shift things quite a bit. And despite what this may imply (or may not) imply, Alexis is merely a catalyst in this story. The main conflict concerns Castle's relationship with Kate.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

He's a bit of a mess when he makes it back to the loft, his stomach still swirling with lingering anxiety. But he has the place to himself tonight; his mother's out for drinks with a few of her acting students and Alexis took a day trip upstate with her friends.

He steps in on a sigh, his eyes slamming shut as he falls back against the door, gathering his bearings.

"Dad?"

He startles, his eyes fluttering open to find Alexis collapsing into the couch, a bowl of ice cream in hand, a question in her eyes.

"You okay?"

He forces a small smile, slipping his shoes off by the door before padding toward the kitchen. "I'm fine, pumpkin." He pulls a glass from the cabinet and reaches into the refrigerator for the pitcher of iced tea, pouring himself a tall glass.

"I stopped at the store today and bought a new gallon of rocky road if you want some."

He shakes his head. "No. But thanks."

"Dad - "

"Alexis," he says sharply. "_Please_."

"I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to go on a little road trip with me tomorrow," she says quietly.

He softens on a sigh, shuffling into the living room to drape himself over the back of the couch. "I thought you were going with your friends today."

She shrugs. "Changed my mind." She hesitates. "And I knew you had your appointment today, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He kisses her forehead. "Wasn't easy," he admits.

"But you're going back next week?"

"I promised you I would, didn't I?" he says, swallowing the ball of emotion in his throat. "So, tomorrow?" he rasps. "What'd you have in mind?"

She grins. "There's a really nice state park a couple of hours away - just outside the Catskills. Maybe we can take a picnic lunch or something. Lay by the lake." She smiles, her blue eyes sparkling with hope.

Like he could ever say no to her. "Count me in."

"Is it okay if I ask Grams to come?"

He laughs. "Go ahead but, uh, don't be disappointed if she says no, okay? She's not exactly the outdoorsy type."

"Duly noted."

"I have to have these edits finished by the end of the week or your wicked ex-stepmother will have my head." He winces. "But yell for me when you get hungry and we'll order a pizza or somethin', hmm?"

"Okay. Have fun." She smirks.

"Ha. I'll try," he grumbles, ruffling her hair affectionately.

He makes his way back to this office, tea glass in hand, when her voice stops him. "I love you, Dad."

His chest is tight with it, everything that's gone wrong since the shooting. His relationships in shambles at his feet, reduced to broken conversations or complete, empty silence. He clenches his other fist at his side, breathing through it. "I love you, too, Alexis."

* * *

She drags him out of bed early the next morning, wants to get as much out of their day as they can, she says, shoving a cup of coffee into his hands. His eyes are heavy still as he stumbles into the shower, his late, almost-sleepless night catching up to him.

He finally fell into bed around two, semi-satisfied after reaching the three-quarter mark with his edits. But the next five hours were restless, periods of wakefulness sprinkled with dark nightmares that left him panting into his pillow, Kate's name a desperate whimper on his lips.

He misses her.

And it's so much worse than it was last summer, now that he's made himself aware of how he feels, now that he's made her aware - or so he thought. He doesn't think she'd lie to him, not about that, but -

It nags at him. And as more time passes without a single word from her -

The doubt gets bigger.

He shrugs into a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, throwing a pair of shorts into a bag along with a bottle of sunscreen and a blanket.

He meets Alexis in the kitchen, her long red hair swept out of her face as she finishes packing the picnic basket and cooler.

"Need any help?" he asks, tossing his bag onto a chair.

She shrugs. "I've got it covered, I think. Do you want anything else to drink other than the bottled water I packed?"

A cold soda sounds really good, but he's been trying to cut back. "I'm good, but if you think you'll be in the mood for something else, throw it in there." He scrubs a hand down his face. "I'm gonna pack up the car. You wanna drive?"

Her face lights up. "Really?"

He laughs. "Keep the Taylor Swift at a tolerable level, and we'll call it a deal."

She grins. "Done."

* * *

The drive to Minnewaska is nice - peaceful even. He only winces once, when her abrupt stop at a redlight shoves the seatbelt hard into his stomach.

He tries to keep up his part of the conversation, but he's in and out most of the way, his exhaustion getting the best of him. But she doesn't seem to mind as she hums softly to the radio, her cheeks bright in the sunlight as the wind dances through her ponytail.

His catnaps are dreamless, thank God. He's not sure how he'd explain the dreams to Alexis, certain that it'd only make her worry more. Maybe even make her angrier, drive a further wedge between them.

They're only miles away now, so he asks her to pull into a little coffee shop on the corner for a quick bathroom break and a caffeine boost.

"I'm gonna stay outside. Stretch my legs," she says, killing the engine.

"You want anything?"

She shrugs. "You can grab me an iced coffee if they have it?"

"Okay. Don't let anybody steal you."

She laughs, giving him a look. "Dad."

He grins. "Back in a jiffy."

He makes quick use of the bathroom before he's leaning against the to-go counter, searching for Alexis' iced coffee.

"Can I help you?"

Castle's eyes flick to the boy behind the counter. "You don't happen to have iced coffee here, do you?"

"Sorry, son. I asked him the same thing not five minutes ago," a voice behind him says. Castle freezes, can almost feel the blood draining out of his face before he turns around.

_Jim._

He pulls Castle's hand into a hearty shake. "How are you doing, Rick?"

He swallows hard, mustering a weak smile. "Just fine, sir. Taking a little day trip with my daughter."

"Ah. I wondered what brought you to my neck of the woods. Katie said she wasn't ready for any visitors yet."

Castle frowns. "Kate?"

"My cabin's a few miles from here. Katie's been staying with me while she recovers." He hesitates. "She didn't tell you?"

"No," he rasps. "She didn't tell me." He hasn't talked to her in over a month, so why the hell would she bother to tell him something like that?

Jim's eyes soften. "You haven't spoken to her at all, have you?"

"No, sir," he confirms. "But that was her choice. Not mine," he says tightly.

Jim nods slowly. "If you'd like to stop by - "

Castle cuts him off. "With all due respect, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Jim sighs. "You're probably right. She's get pissed off at both of us if we ambushed her."

That, among dozens of other reasons that Castle won't voice.

Jim claps him on the shoulder. "Well, I hope you enjoy your day with Alexis. I'll put a bug in Katie's ear about calling you."

"You really don't have - "

"I know you mean the world to her, son. So let me talk to her. I can't make any promises. God knows she more stubborn than her mother and I put together."

"Thank you, sir. It was nice running into you."

"You're a terrible liar, Rick. But you've got a good heart." With that, he walks out the door, leaving Castle alone with the barista again, the previous question forgotten in the wake of his heart sinking further into his chest.

"On second thought, I don't think I'll be having anything today. Thanks."

* * *

**Love to hear from you.**

**Liv**


	3. Chapter 3

**For Nik47, who saved me from a homeless existence, despite having only met me a handful of times. You're a rockstar.**

* * *

_The loneliness within me_  
_Takes a heavy toll_  
_'Cause it burns as slow as whiskey_  
_ through an empty aching soul_

* * *

"Are you okay, Dad?"

His attention snaps to his daughter with the furrowed brow, lathering sunscreen over her long, pale legs.

He forces a smile. "Yeah. I'm fine, Pumpkin. Just...zoning out, I guess." He lifts the lid off the plastic cookie bin, despite that he's not the least bit hungry, after devouring a couple of PB&Js and polishing off a small bag of chips.

Maybe he's an emotional eater, he thinks vaguely.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She hums, her arms splayed behind her, her face tilted toward the sun.

"It is," he agrees. He swallows the chocolate treat roughly, his throat tight. "The perfect day," he finishes quietly.

Out of habit, he reaches into his pocket for his phone to check the time, only to remember that he'd left it in the car to avoid the temptation of checking it every ten minutes to see if maybe Jim had gotten through to her.

And he knows a lack of notification would cut worse than anything. Another day.

More silence.

He plucks a few blades of grass from the ground, rubbing them between his fingers. He misses this in the city - the feel of the ground beneath him, something solid other than dirty concrete. He can breathe out here, away from the cacophony and the bustle -

Away from the _dead_.

As much as he loves the thrill of murder - the way it simmers through his veins - it starts to lose its appeal along with the decay of his heart.

He wonders if that's why she's out here - in search of something else to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground, to keep from drowning in the darkness.

"You sure you're okay? You've been quiet all afternoon," Alexis hedges carefully.

He sighs. Sometimes he wishes she wasn't so observant. Let him get away with more. "I bumped into Kate's father at the coffee shop we stopped in on the way here," he admits.

"Oh," she says softly, surprised. "Did - " she hesitates. "Did he say how she was doing?"

He swallows hard. "She's staying with him at his cabin a few miles from here."

"You didn't know that, did you?"

"No." He lets out a breath, slow and shaky, his eyes fluttering closed. "No, I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Dad," she offers, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

"It is what it is," he offers with a shrug, as if it could be that simple, as if it doesn't settle in his heart, ripping it apart at the seams.

Alexis doesn't falter, lets her hand rest on his for a few minutes, silent as she stares out over the water. "I hope you're more forthcoming with the therapist," she says after a moment.

"It takes time, Alexis," he reminds her gently.

"I know." She removes her hand from his, clasps it together with the other in her lap.

Castle sighs, leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "We're gonna be fine, Alexis," he murmurs. "I promise you that. No matter what happens between Detective Beckett and I." He closes his eyes. "We're gonna be just fine."

* * *

Castle decides to take the wheel on the way home, keep his mind a little occupied, his phone still out of reach. Alexis is mostly silent the way back, but still relatively content, her nose buried in one of her favorite European classics. He thumps his fingers softly against the steering wheel, a tune that doesn't quite match the classic rock song that filters through the speakers.

"Your phone's buzzing," Alexis says, reaching for the device he'd stashed away in the glove compartment. "Sounds like someone's trying to reach you."

His mouth goes dry, his fingers tightening at the wheel. "Ignore it," he rasps out. "I'll check it when we get home."

"What if it's Gram?"

"She'll call you if she needs to get ahold of us. We've only got half an hour left after we make it through this stretch of traffic."

She closes the glove box slowly, a little reluctant. "Okay."

It's the longest half-hour of his life.

* * *

His heart thumps loudly in his chest the entire walk up to the loft, matching the quick stride of his feet. His phone burns a hole in his back pocket, still untouched.

After he greets his mother, Alexis settles down at the island next to her and pours herself a glass of lemonade, already detailing her plans with her friends tomorrow. She doesn't include him, which is fine with him, gives him the perfect excuse to slip into his room and check the missed call.

He settles down on the edge of the bed, slips his phone from his pocket with trembling hands. It's probably not even her, he tells himself. It's Gina or Paula - something about the new book. Maybe even press about the shooting.

Could be Ryan or Esposito, checking in after Gates kicked him out a few days ago.

It could be any number of people, really.

He swipes at the screen and sure enough -

_1 Missed Call from Kate Beckett._

_1 New Voicemail._

He sucks in a sharp breath and lifts the phone to his ear. "You have one unheard message. First message - "

He hears a sigh. _Her_ sigh. And then a click. A hang-up without so much as a word.

Damn it, Beckett.

He tosses his phone onto the bed, buries his head in his hands. He knows what she wants - needs him to be the first one to make a move now. He'll call her and she'll be annoyed, as if she wasn't the one to pick up the phone first. It'll be short and stilted and they won't resolve a damn thing. A conversation full of small half-pleasantries that are so very hollow in the wake of this shitstorm.

No. Calling her back isn't going to make him feel any better.

So he doesn't.

* * *

"I wasn't sure I'd see you again," she admits, setting a cup of coffee into his waiting hands.

"I wasn't either," he says quietly. "But some things have changed."

She nods slowly. "Things involving - "

"Kate," he finishes for her.

"Maybe we should start at the beginning, Rick. Sounds like there might be a lot of history there."

He laughs, tracing the rim of his coffee mug with his finger. "You have no idea."

"Tell me how the two of you met."

He takes a deep breath and takes himself back three and a half years where it all started.

* * *

**Someone asked me if I was going to go back through all three years. I ended this chapter here so that I could avoid all that. It's obviously important, but we all know how that story goes and I don't think it's essential here at all. It's more about the present situation and how it's affecting Castle. I'd have a ton more ground to cover if I were to go back and revisit all of that.**

**Love to hear from you,**

**Liv**


	4. Chapter 4

_For Sadie._

* * *

_Well I won't make you tell me_  
_What I've come to understand_  
_You're a certain kind of woman and_  
_I'm a different kind of man_

* * *

Why do you love her, Rick?"

It's his fourth session with her and he doesn't feel any better about the whole situation since the first time. If anything, he feels more raw, like she's yanking everything out of him - away from him - and he doesn't know how to keep it all locked down anymore.

And from what he hears, that's how it's _supposed_ to be, but -

Well, that sucks, doesn't it?

He opens his mouth, closes it on a frown. "What do you mean, why?"

She pauses, thoughtful, leaning forward in her chair. "What is it about her that keeps you coming back, despite everything that's happened between the two of you?"

He swallows hard, doesn't even know where to begin."She drives me absolutely crazy. I've never met anyone so stubborn, so infuriating," he grits out, scraping his palm across his jaw. "But - " he sighs. "She's _real_. Compassionate. Her heart's bigger than anyone else I know. And - " he breaks off, struggling with it. "I've never wanted to change who I am before she came along."

She cocks her head. "Change who you are? How?"

_For the last three years, I've been running around with the school's funniest kid, and it's not enough._

"I don't know," he lies, shrugging it off with the wave of his hand. But he knows. He's never been good enough for her and he's not sure if he'll ever be good enough for her.

And maybe that's the whole problem.

"But you think that's okay? Changing who you are for someone else?"

He winces. "When you put it like that, it sounds - "

"Ridiculous?" she offers. "Look, I'm not talking about self-improvement, Rick. There's a difference between growing and becoming a better person versus completely changing who you are to please someone else. Do you see the difference?"

"I guess." He pauses. "Yes."

"And I'm just throwing this out there - purely speculation on my part since I've never met her - but from what you've told me, she's let you follow her around for what, three years now? If she didn't like you, the man you truly are, do you really think she would've let you stick around all these years?"

His eyes slam shut at that; it's not that easy. It's never been that easy. "There's a difference between tolerating and loving," he rasps.

"Yes. That's true."

"So how do I know the difference?"

She cocks her head, amused. "You _talk_ to her. A novel idea for the two of you, I know." She rolls her eyes and she looks so much like Kate in that moment that he can't help but let out a little laugh.

"You think I should call her?"

She sighs. "No. She clearly has her own issues she needs to work out first. But when she's ready, you'll know."

"And then what? I'm supposed to welcome her with open arms?" he spits out, shaking his head. He misses her, _God_ he does. The ache in his heart gets wider, deeper everyday, threatens to swallow him whole but then -

So does the anger.

"I said talk to her, Rick. I'm not talking about forgiveness just yet. Don't offer it if you're not in a position to give it to her right now. You need to start validating how you feel. It's okay to be mad at her. She's human. She makes mistakes just like the rest of us."

The way she says it - like it's the most obvious thing in the world and it should be, but he wonders if maybe he's idealized Kate all this time, put her on a pedestal that anyone would fall off of.

He sucks in a shaky breath. "What do I do until then?"

She gives him a sad little smile and he realizes he's still got so far to go, that they've only barely scratched the surface. "Just keep talking, Rick. That's all."

* * *

He wanders around for awhile after his session is over, content to soak up the summer sun to try to replace some of his depleted energy. He feels so drained and just damn exhausted, but now that the final edits of Nikki Heat are finished, he can relax a little more, start sleeping in until he can't stand it anymore.

His feet get a little sore after an hour, his heels rubbing against the back of his new leather shoes uncomfortably. So he collapses into a chair in one of his favorite bookstores, coffee in one hand, worn, yellowed paperback in his lap, waiting to be opened.

He can't remember the last time he was here, maybe sometime a couple of winters ago to seek solace on a frigid day. The place, as warm and comfy as it is, isn't incredibly conducive to writing. No outlets or tables. It was never meant to be that kind of establishment really and it he's perfectly content to take it as it is, but it doesn't afford him much time here either, between working at the 12th and writing his novels.

He sips his coffee slowly, completely loses himself in the pages til his eyes get heavy, the setting sun warming his skin through the window. He stretches his limbs, sated and pleased with his relaxing afternoon, before he lifts himself from the chair, his bones a little more creaky than he'd like. He deposits his mug on the counter with a smile and shoves his book back into its bag before reaching into his pocket for his phone.

He swipes at it easily, texting Alexis to see if she wants him to pick up a pizza on his way home. He steps away from the counter, eyes on his cell, and completely collides into the woman behind him.

He hears a sharp little gasp and the apology falls easily from his lips as he lifts his head "I'm so sorry. Are you - " His gaze falls on a pair of startled brown eyes.

"Castle," she rasps out. There's a smile there, but it's too strained, tight against the corners of her mouth.

He nods, swallowing hard. "Beckett."

She looks -

well, _good_, actually. Maybe a little thin. He's not sure what he was expecting, but she's sturdy in on her feet, fresh in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Though she is wearing flats, he notices, finally taking stock of the height difference between them. He catches her fingers smoothing against her side, hears her breath catch a little before she slides them away.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Just a little sore." It's meant to be reassuring, but her voice is too light, almost breathy.

"Do you need to sit down?" he asks, concern etched in his forehead.

"I'm fine, Castle."

He tries not to flinch, hears it all in the subtext of her words. _I've been getting along just fine without you for the last couple of months and I don't need your help now._

"Right," he says awkwardly. "Well, I'm gonna head out then. Alexis is waiting for me to bring dinner home." Sort of the truth. Mostly a lie. "Good to know you're feeling better," he adds, the edge in his tone barely creeping in.

She catches it though, even looks a little taken aback. She opens her mouth to retort, but decides not to bite. She takes a moment, tucks her hair behind her ear before briefly swiping at her lips. "I tried calling you."

"After your dad convinced you to."

She lifts her eyebrows in disbelief. "You didn't call me back."

"You didn't leave a message."

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm going back to the precinct in a couple of days. You in?"

"I'll let you know."

Amusement flashes briefly in her eyes before she realizes he's completely serious. "You'll _let me kn_-"

He purses his lips. "I'll call you, Kate. I need to get home." He walks past her then and it completely tears him apart, rips his insides to shreds to leave her standing there, so he stops, turns around once more.

"I'm really glad you're okay."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy Early Birthday to my big sis, Jessa. Love you!**

* * *

_The rain falls where it wants to_  
_Wind blows where it will_  
_Everything on earth goes somewhere_  
_But I swear we're standin' still_

* * *

He doesn't expect her to wait for him to call, so it's not a total surprise when she calls him a week later.

"You gonna answer that, Dad?" Alexis asks him, eyebrows raised as she pours herself a cup of tea.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"You know it's only a matter of time before she shows up here."

"And maybe by thenI'll be ready to talk." He shrugs. "But for now - "

"Can't you just tell her that you're not ready to come back? That you need space to work it out?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "She's not going to understand, Alexis. And I'm not in a position right now to explain it all - not when I'm barely making heads or tails of it myself right now."

"Okay, Dad."

He kisses her forehead. "I know I've said it before, Pumpkin, but no matter what happens between me and Beckett, everything will work out." He smiles. "But I appreciate you worrying about your old man."

She laughs. "You're not that old, Dad."

He jerks back. "That was a test and you just failed. _Old_?" He scoffs. "There's not a single old thing about me."

She smirks. "I think those grey hairs beg to differ."

"_What_?" he yelps, gingerly smoothing the back of his head as he ducks down, checking his reflection in the glare of the toaster.

She laughs. "God, you're easy."

He narrows his eyes at her. "That was so not cool."

Alexis opens her mouth to speak, but his phone interrupts them again. He checks the caller ID and frowns.

"Esposito," he greets him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Dude, you're not talking to Beckett?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," he says wryly. Alexis smirks before scooting off her stool. She leans up and kisses him on the cheek before she grabs an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and shuffles into the living room. Castle sighs. "She told you?"

Esposito scoffs. "Bro, it's Beckett. Hell would freeze over before she'd tell me anything like that. I heard her slam the phone down a few minutes ago and she keeps looking at your chair and pursing her lips."

"She's pissed?"

"She's been a little short with everyone since she got back."

"She was also just shot a few months ago," Castle points out inanely.

Esposito ignores him. "So what's going on between the two of you? Lover's quarrel?"

Castle sighs. "I just need a little distance. I gave her hers; the least she can do is give me mine." He collapses onto the stool, clutching a glass of orange juice.

"I'm not sayin' you don't got a point, bro, but - "

"But what?"

"I think she needs someone, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"She's got a boyfriend, Esposito," he grits out.

"Who, Motorcycle Boy? They've been done for weeks. I bumped into him at a bar a week ago and he introduced me to his new girl."

Wow. Shit.

But - still. It doesn't change things. Not really. Not _yet_, anyway.

He sighs. "Three months, Esposito."

"Yeah. I know."

The line goes dead.

* * *

She shows up on his doorstep the next night when his defenses are lowered. His mother's got a late night coaching session at her school and Alexis left a couple of hours ago for a movie night with Paige. He's thrown his pajamas on early, content to spend the night with a book or a movie in bed.

But then she's there in front of him, looking vulnerable in a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt, a tremulous smile on her lips.

"Hey," she breathes out.

He sucks in a breath, his fingers tightening against the door. "Hey."

"I tried calling you yesterday."

"I know."

She flinches, hurt with it, and he almost reaches for her right then, pulls her into his arms. But he can't. "Space, remember?" he reminds her softly, a little kinder this time.

"Right." She laughs hollowly. "Space."

Wow. That's not - shit. Not really fair at all.

"I gave you three months of it, Beckett. You can't give me a week?"

She tears a hand through her hair on a frustrated sigh, pulling a few strands loose from her ponytail. "Can I just come in for a second so we're not putting on a show for your neighbors?"

He scrubs a hand down his face, resigned to the fact that she's not letting this drop like he'd hoped. "Sure," he says tightly. "Come on in."

She steps over the threshold and he closes the door behind her. She crosses her arms over her chest, looking small in her flats. "Martha and Alexis aren't home?" she asks quietly.

"Nope. They're out for the night."

She nods slowly, turning away from him to walk the floor. He waits patiently for a moment as she struggles with it. Then -

"I broke up with Josh."

Um. Yeah, but -

"I know. Esposito told me," he says slowly, confused.

She frowns. "How the hell does he know?"

He ignores her question. "What does Josh have to do with this?" His heart pounds in his chest at the thought, that maybe she broke up with him for -

"I just thought maybe - " she breaks off, shaking her head on a sigh. "I thought maybe that's why you've been staying away." She bites her lip. "I heard about what he said to you."

_Oh_. She thinks he blames himself. Well, yeah - he can see how she'd get there.

"I don't blame myself," he hedges carefully. "Maybe a little at first, but it's got nothing to do with that."

"Oh," she breathes out, looks a little relieved, actually. "Then why?"

"I'm angry," he replies, swallowing hard. "I'm angry with you, Kate. That's why I've been staying away."

She lets out an incredulous laugh. "Because I didn't _call_?"

His eyes slam shut. "Don't do that. You don't get to do that. Just because you think it's not a big deal doesn't mean that I - " he breaks off, sucking in a breath as his vision swims. "Jesus Christ," he rasps. "I watched you die in that ambulance. I watched you _die_."

She takes a step toward him, her eyes softening. "I'm sorry, Castle. It didn't even occur to me that - or no, that's not true. It _did_ occur to me, but I thought that once I came back everything would - "

"Be okay again?" he offers.

Because that's _it_. That's the entire problem. He keeps coming back because she expects him to and he _does_ and then it happens all over again.

"Yes," she admits. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt, fidgeting uncomfortably. "And I realize how screwed up that is, Castle. I do."

"I'm just trying to figure it out, Kate. Everything. But I can't - we can't keep going on like this. Something has to change."

Her gaze darts sharply to his. "You're quitting?"

"I don't want to," he confesses. "But that's what I have to figure out. That's what the space is for."

"I'm really starting to hate that word."

He laughs a little and a thrill shoots down his spine at her smile. "You and me both."

"So I guess my last question is - _how_, Castle? You gonna break up our partnership alone?" It's a weak joke, and her delivery falls flat in the bobbing of her throat and the mist in her eyes.

Jesus. "Kate, I - "

"No." She shakes her head. "Just don't count me out just yet, Castle. I've got my own issues to deal with, but - " She takes a shaky breath and shuffles toward him, reaching for his hand. "I'd never forgive myself for driving you away." The squeeze of her hand over his is brief before she drops it, but it's there. "Promise me you won't close the book on this one just yet."

Oh, Kate. "I promise."

She smiles. "Good."

And then she's gone.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Sincerest apologies for the delay. Unfortunately, I don't think my pacing will get much better. Starting a second job next week. Do my best to at least make the updates once a week, though. You're all lovely for sticking with me. Appreciate it.**

**For JetPackingPenguin, the biggest champ of this little fic.**

* * *

_The night is like a dagger_  
_Long and cold and sharp_  
_As I sit here on the front steps_  
_Blowing smoke rings in the dark_

* * *

"Tell me about what happened with Kate when she showed up at your place."

Castle takes a sip of water and exhales slowly, unclenching his fist that rests against the arm of the chair. "I'd been ignoring her calls since we bumped into each other at the bookstore."

"Why?"

"Because I knew I'd have to tell her that I was angry and that she wouldn't understand - " He sighs. "That it was no big deal."

"And did she react the way you thought she would?"

He scrubs his palm down his face. "Yes."

"And what did you say?"

"That she didn't get to laugh in my face. Not when - " he breaks off, swallowing hard. "Not after I watched her die."

She cocks her head, the corners of her mouth turning in a small smile. "That's great."

He frowns. "What is?"

"You took the steps. You told her how you felt."

"Did you miss the part where she still laughed in my face?"

"Listen to me, Rick. You can't change the way Kate reacts to you. And as much as you may want to, you can't change the way she thinks or acts in regards to you. But what you can do, what you did do, is change the way you react to her. Do you see what I'm saying?"

He lifts an eyebrow. "Sort of."

She leans forward in her chair, which perks him up a bit. She always leans forward when she's got something really important to say - like she can't quite get close enough for him to understand everything she's trying to convey.

"Think about everything you've told me, your entire history with Detective Beckett. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that you've been in love with her for a while now. But you've been holding back and I suspect for a reason greater than either of your significant others." She shoots him a look.

"Look, don't you see? You've made it your life to follow this woman, to be a part of her life and her life's work. And you've gotten so good at reading her. So good that it's held you back, kept you from telling her how you really feel because you're able to foresee how it might play out."

"But I've been_ right_, just like you said. So why would I tell her if she's going to respond negatively?"

"Because this isn't about her. It's about you. Look, I'm not saying reciprocation isn't important or that it wouldn't be nice, but it's not the point. What kind of life would it be if you had to keep everything that you're feeling locked inside of yourself because you had a hunch someone else might not like it? It's no way to live, Rick, even with your high success rate."

Jesus Christ, his head hurts. But he guesses - well. Huh. She might have a point there.

"All right, answer me this: how did you end things? After she laughed, but before she left, what'd she say to you?"

He closes his eyes, reimagines their conversation. "She told me she was sorry. She assumed everything would be okay again after she came back. And then -" Huh. Wow. "Before she left she told me that she had her own issues to work out, but that she didn't want me to give up on us just yet."

"And given what you know about Kate, do you think she was being honest with you?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

She smiles. "So you were honest with her and she - "

" - was honest with me," he finishes for her.

She grins. "See what happens when you drop the subtext?"

"All right, all right," he grumbles. "You've got a point." He willingly admits, though, that he feels _loads_ lighter. This isn't it, not by a long shot, but she's right. He was honest with her and even though she reacted exactly the way he thought she would, it still wasn't -

Well, pointless.

"I think she cares about you, enough to recognize that she's got her own demons to work through. Maybe at some point, you'll be willing to share the work you've done in here. And if there comes a time when you wanna open up to her, but you're struggling or you're not sure how, you can always ask her to come with you and I can help facilitate." She pauses, smirking. "Though it sounds like sometimes the two of you could use a mediator, rather than a facilitator. But either way."

He nods slowly. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet," he admits. "But I'll, uh, keep that in mind."

"No rush. Just a suggestion." She cocks her head. "You're freaking out right now, aren't you?"

"A little." Ha.

"Hey, I haven't steered you wrong yet, have I?"

He smiles. "No, you haven't."

"All right then. Go home, Rick. Relax."

He lifts himself from the chair, wincing at the crick in his lower back. "You don't have to tell me twice."

"Just one more thing."

"I knew that was too easy."

She lifts an eyebrow and he shuts up, all ears. Hmm. Wonder if that works for all women? "I was just going to say that you don't have to avoid her. Kate, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it doesn't have to be one or the other. You can be be angry with her and confused, but still be there for each other while you work things out on your own. You miss her, don't you?"

He sighs and his heart aches with it. _All_ of it. "Yes."

"So be there for each other, Rick."

"But how do I do that?"

She smiles. "You're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll figure it out."


	7. Chapter 7

He shows up late at her apartment the next night, a bag of mixed chocolate candy in one hand and a jug of white grape juice in the other. He's not ready to return to the precinct with her, work side by side, but he misses her. And last time he saw her they were both so very miserable and he thinks maybe they can ease the ache a little for each other. Maybe.

"Castle?" She tilts her head, her messy ponytail swinging with her. She looks weary, cautious. He can't blame her. "What are you doing here?"

"Someone recently told me that just because you're angry with your best friend doesn't mean that you can't be there for each other while you get all your crap figured out." He lets out a sigh. "Besides, misery loves company, right?"

She laughs a little, the relief etched into her features, her forehead falling to rest against the edge of the door. "Misery also apparently loves chocolate and….white grape juice?" She lifts an eyebrow.

He shrugs. "I thought maybe we'd both had a little too much of the hard stuff lately. As a kid, I always imagined it was what white wine tasted like."

She smiles and steps aside to let him in, her slippers shuffling against the floor. "So what's the verdict?" she asks, shutting the door behind him.

"It tastes way better than white wine."

She chuckles, takes the jug from his hands and heads to the kitchen to pull out a couple of glasses from the cupboard. "You caught me in the middle of a _Temptation Lane_ marathon."

Castle frowns. "You don't have a television."

"I'm sure you've heard of a little thing called a computer, Castle."

"Ah, right." The couch is pristine though, no rumples, wrinkles, or blankets piled up. He knows her, knows if she's seeking solace in an old show then she'd wanna be comfy. Her computer is missing too, which must mean he showed up after she'd settled into bed for the night.

"I should've assumed you'd wound down for the evening. I'm sure you've had a lot of early mornings. I can go, if - "

"No way, Castle," she walks back toward him, thrusts the cold glass into his hands. "You can't just waltz in with chocolate and then take it away from me," she jokes. "Make yourself comfortable on the couch and I'll get my laptop." She sets her glass down on the coffee table and brushes past him to her room.

"You're not gonna make me watch _Temptation Lane_, are you?" he calls after her. She looks over her shoulder at him with narrowed, warning eyes, but there's an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Too highbrow for you, anyway!" she calls back to him.

He scoffs, settling down on one end of the couch, tossing the back of candy onto the table next to their drinks.

She comes back out, laptop cradled under one arm, throw blanket tossed over the other.

"I'm assuming you have a Netflix account?" he asks as she wiggles down next to him, a few inches separating them.

She rolls her eyes. "How else do you think I watch movies, genius?"

"There are other ways. Not so legitimate ways, mind you, but other ways."

She lifts an eyebrow. "An officer of the law streaming movies illegally is a little too ironic for my taste, thank you very much."

He makes a motion at her computer. "May I?"

She lifts her juice from the coffee table. "Be my guest."

He scrolls through her account, flicking through her queue. He hears her cough and tears his gaze away from the titles to find her making a face as she replaces her glass.

"You, uh, neglected to mention how sweet it was," she says, swiping at her mouth with her hand.

"Two minutes ago you were mooning over my three pound bag of chocolate and the juice is too sweet for you?"

"I'm not planning on eating all three pounds of it, Castle."

"Fine. My juice is too good for the likes of you, anyway. Too _highbrow_, if you will."

"Touche."

"Thank you." He turns back to her computer, looking for an old classic they might both enjoy. "How would you feel about _To Kill A Mockingbird_? Too depressing?"

She smiles, shaking her head. "I love that movie."

He grins. "Awesome." With the click of his finger, he maximizes the screen and nudges the volume up before he sets it down in front of them.

"This was one of my favorite novels in high school," she admits.

"Really? I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess you just strike me as more of a tragedies kind of gal. Caesar, Antigone, Oedipus - that kind of thing."

She nods slowly, tugging at her lip in thought. "I loved them, don't get me wrong, but - I don't know. Atticus and his crusade for justice, doing what's right no matter what anyone else thought, it always struck a chord with me."

"Ah, of course. Should've guessed."

"My Dad loves it, too," she adds softly. "He has more than one worn copy on his bookshelf."

"And your mom?"

She shrugs. "She liked it well enough, but it was never one of her favorites. Still, when I was old enough, we all took turns reading it together a few times a week after dinner." She smiles, ducking her head at the memory. "Dad would sit in the armchair and I'd lay on Mom's lap on the couch. One of us usually fell asleep at some point and it took us _months_ to finish it." She laughs, shaking her head.

He sucks in his breath, his chest wrapped in moments like these when it catches him off guard - the depth of his love for her. He hates that she steeled herself away for months, didn't want to be caught in such a vulnerable position or appear to be weak in front of those who matter most to her. But _this_ -

It helps a little. These stories, parts of her that she's willing to share with little hesitation. It's been a slow burn for them, sometimes achingly slow, but moments like these make it all worth it - the waiting, the pain - all of it.

"You're staring, Castle," she rasps, swallowing hard. Her eyes are bright, maybe even a little startled, and he realizes that he's not usually so open about his admiration for her. At least never in a vulnerable situation like the one they're in now, curled up on the couch together in an attempt to ease the pain each other has caused.

It sounds...twisted.

"Right." He hides his head away, cheeks flaming as he forces his focus back to the movie. He feels her hand drop to his knee for a brief squeeze before she slowly slides it away.

He'll take it.

* * *

He tries to leave without waking her, adjusting her gently on the couch so she doesn't wake with a crick in her neck. He makes it a few steps out of the living room when the floor squeaks loudly, alerting her to his quick exit.

"Castle?" she mumbles sleepily, her hand covering her mouth as she stifles a yawn.

"Go back to sleep, Kate."

She hums low in her throat, brushing her hand over her eyes. "I'll walk you to the door."

"I'm nearly there. Go back to sleep."

But then she's getting up, damn stubborn woman, looking adorably sleep rumpled in her messy ponytail, blanket draped over her shoulders.

She shoots him a sleepy, heart-stopping smile. "Thanks for the company." She swipes her tongue over her lips. "And the chocolate."

He stifles a laugh, really needs to catch her like this more often. "Anytime."

She leans up on her toes, anchoring her hands to his shoulders so she doesn't stumble in her sleep-drunk state, and brushes her mouth across his cheek. She lingers for a moment and lets out a little stuttering sigh before she steps away from him.

He wonders how long it'll take before his heart rate goes back to normal.

"You'll let me know when - " She swallows the words in her throat. "If you're ready to come back?"

"Have dinner with me next weekend, Kate. There's something I wanna tell you."

He's ready to come clean. Wants to tell her about his therapy sessions and everything that happened that day, including -

Well, assuming she's ready to hear it.

She smiles. "Yeah. Okay, Castle. We should...talk." She looks hesitant, nervous even, but he knows she wouldn't agree to it only to back out later.

He's gonna do this.

"Goodnight, Kate."

"Til next time, Castle."


End file.
